Because of You
by xX-girl with broken wings-Xx
Summary: Amara has been transferred to Hogwarts in her seventh year. She meets Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. But who is she really? What is she hiding? And why? She has more secrets than you think. REVIEW!
1. because of you

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. Duuuuh. I DO, however, own Amara. I also do NOT own the song. Kelly Clarkson does. Duuuuh.

**To all my lovely reviewers – check out my new stories. In the Rough, and Black Roses Red. Adios. I will TRY to update soon.**

Thanks to

Spider (hugs and kudos to you, my friend)

JBT (first reviewer) awwwww

Within me blue (gracias) so sweet!

And everyone else THANK YOU!

Because Of You

_I will not make/ the same mistakes that you did/ I will not let myself/ cause my heart so much misery/ I will not break/ the way you did, you fell so hard/ I've learned the hard way/ to never let it get that far/ because of you/ I never stray to far from the sidewalk/ because of you / I learn to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt _

Amara, wearing faded jeans and a purple tank-top, sat as far away from her father as possible. In this case, it was only across the table.

"I do not want to use my father's last name," she said abruptly, "I don't want people to know who I am. It will only make trouble for me."

Dumbledore looked mildly surprised. "Fine, then. You can use the name… the name Smith. Is that alright?"

Amara nodded in sober consent, and the brief meeting in Dumbledore's office was over.

It was Amara's first year at Hogwarts, but she was starting as a sixth year. She had been in a boarding school for the previous five years, in the United States. Then her mother had died. Amara had been taken to her father, Severus Snape, to live with him and to go to Hogwarts, the school at which he worked. Needless to say, they had a rocky relationship.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Amara had always been brave. Bold. Unafraid. But she was. Afraid. She just didn't show it.

Amara walked across the Great Hall shyly on her first day of school at Hogwarts, glancing at her schedule. Double Potions, Herbology, and Transfiguration. Great. She was in Griffindor, much to the disgust of her father, but had no idea where the dormitories were.

A girl chattered loudly with a boy with bright red hair and load's of freckles and another boy with dark hair and glasses. Those three looked about Amara's age. The girl, who had dirty blond hair and a bunch of text books tucked under her arm, extricated herself from her conversation when she noticed Amara's lost expression.

"Do you need help?" she asked catiously.

"Ummm. I'm… new here. I'm trying to find the Griffindor dormitories," Amara answered quietly.

"That's where we're going," said the girl brightly. She turned, and caught the immediate attention of her two friends. "This is Ron," she pointed to the red haired boy. A large hand grasped hers and shook exuberantly. "And this is Harry. Harry Potter." The girl gestured to the other boy. Amara nodded slightly to make it clear she knew who Harry Potter was. Harry smiled at her. "And I am Hermione."

"I'm Amara. I just transferred here." She followed Hermione, Ron, and Harry to the dormitories, just catching a curious look Harry sent her.


	2. reminiscence

Chapter 2

Amara sat in the front of the class during potions. Her father ignored her. He did not talk to her, or yell at her, or deduct points from Griffindor on her. He just ignored her. It was fine with Amara. She was unsure whether her father was even capable of love. She knew for a fact that she didn't love him. Far from it.

Potions was the last class of the day. _Thank God_, thought Amara.

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She wasn't hungry. So she didn't go. To dinner. It was as simple as that. Amara was thinking about her mother. Only Snape and herself knew who she was. She wasn't allowed to tell anyone. As if. Amara had nobody to tell anyway. She had lived a friendless life. She was beautiful, smart, friendly, charming, and kind. But still, she didn't have any friends.

That would change very soon, though Amara did not know it.

Right now she was dreading seeing her father. It was Monday. Every Tuesday, on behest of the headmaster, Amara was to eat dinner with her father. _He didn't say anything about acting civil though_, Amara thought to herself with a grin.

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"Amara?" Snape asked in his silky, quiet voice. Amara was picking at her food with her fork, twirling the spagetti around and around, not eating any. They were in one of Dumbledore's private rooms.

"What?" she answered overloudly, not looking at him.

"Stop picking at your food."

"Make me."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Amara retreated to the Griffindor common room after dinner. She looked at the clock. Eleven twenty-one.

She had not said anything to her father after that "make me". She was sure her father didn't mind, but of course he pretended to.

Amara sat down on the crimson couch in front of the fire with a sigh. She hated her father. Severus Snape had left her and her mother when she was four. She still remembered it well.

_"Daddy?" a mini Amara had tugged on the bottom of his black robes -she couldn't reach any higher. He didn't answer._

_He grew rough, and pulled her off of him. "Ama-Amara. Stop it. I have to go." Snape's voice was husky, showing emotion that no-one had ever heard in his normally emotionless voice. He gathered all his bags, suitcases, etc. and held them close for a moment. _

_"But where, Daddy? Where are you going? And why?" He vanished, never to answer, apparating into the foggy morning._

_And then the Death Eaters came to call._

Eight years later the Death Eaters still came knocking. Amara's young mind had dreamt so many times that her father would come and rescue them both from this hell. But no. That was how Amara's mother had died.

The Death Eaters beat her to death.

Amara's mother hadn't even been taken to St. Mungos. No. She had died, right there, at home, in front of her daughter.

Then Snape had come. He acted like nothing was wrong. For the next four years she attended a boarding school of witchcraft and wizardry far away. Then came the death threats. Then came the terror. Amara was a powerful witch in her own right, even though she was young. Snape, with Dumbledore's urges, withdrew her from that school and brought her to Hogwarts, where she would be safe (or at least safer). Amara hated him. For abandoning them. For being who he was. He never understood.

Tears ran down Amara's sad face. She leaned into the pillow and sobbed. She fell asleep minutes later. She didn't feel the hand that stroked her hair, the hand that wiped still fresh tears off her face. No, she didn't feel it. But it comforted her, even in her dreams.


	3. dreams

Chapter 3:

At the end of classes, Amara walked through the hallways the long way to avoid people. As she rounded the tall, narrow staircase, her bag split at the bottom. Her books, ink, and papers flew across the floor.

"Shit," Amara swore under her breath.

She knelt on the floor and picked up her books, drenched in ink. A small glass bottle of orchid scented water had also been smashed. Amara's mother had loved the scent and so did Amara.

"Reparo," she muttered. The charm, however useful, did not restore the contents of the bottle.

A hand pressed her muggle studies book into her hands. She looked up into the light eyes of a handsome blond boy. His hair, almost white, was slicked back, as if plastered to his head. He was slim, tall, and smiled slightly.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

"I'm Amara."

He helped her pick up the rest of her books and helped her up.

She brushed her brown hair back over her ear, and thanked him.

He watched her go, wondering who she was.

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Amara worked in the common room after dinner. Deep in her studies, she didn't notice when Hermione came up to her, standing near the edge of the couch.

"Ummm. cough ."

Amara didn't stir, or look up from her book.

"Amara?"

"Uhhhhh… yes?" Amara snapped to attention.

"Well," said Hermione, "me, an' Ron and Harry noticed you've been studying a lot alone in her, so we, uhh, wondered if you wanted to join us…" she trailed off.

Amara looked surprised. "Thanks. I'd love to," she answered warmly. Hermione helped her haul all of her book up to the library.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"No," screamed Amara, "Don't! Take me. Don't kill her. Nooooooooooooo."

Hermione woke to the sounds of Amara screaming and wailing in her sleep. She slipped off to the boy's dormitories and woke Harry. She didn't even try to wake Ron. He could sleep through anything.

"Uuuuuh? What, Hermione?" Harry sounded annoyed.

"Come with me," she replied.

She dragged him, half-asleep, to the girl's dormitories, where Amara lay.

Harry stared at her. He had found her in the common room last night as well. She looked so tired, and so scared. There was something familiar about her, though he coulden't lay his finger on what it was.

She sobbed in her sleep, throwing her slender neck back, while Harry and Hermione watched in grim silence.


	4. truly happy

Chapter 4

Months had passed. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Amara were as tight as any. Ron made her laugh. Harry was as close as a brother. And Hermione was mischievous and caring friend.

Ron made her laugh. Hermione made her happy. But it was Harry, the one person she felt closest to, who made her laugh.

She hadn't noticed. All those years, gone by, without cracking a smile. The everyday ache she felt about her mother was not gone, but it was fading. With that one smile, her frozen heart melted and began to blossom.

Her smile was the most beautiful thing. A ray of sunlight in the dark world.

And for the first time, Amara felt truly happy.


	5. dancing

A/N thanks AGAIN to all you wonderful reviewers. Cannot thank you enough!

A/N Also, I am pretending that there is also a ball for sixth years. Yeah –well… what can I say?

Chapter 5

Amara wore a black sleeveless dress to the Yule Ball. It was a short dress, ending just above her knees. Hermione lent her a pair of her own black sandals. They had a heel, and Amara was forever worrying about falling. In addition, she wore a green shawl from her mother that accented her green eyes perfectly.

She entered the dance floor alone. Nobody had invited her, but she came anyway. Her friends were all occupied. Ron was dancing with Lavender nearby, and Harry was just whizzing Ginny away. Hermione went with her boyfriend at the time, Dean Thomas, with whom she didn't look entirely happy.

She stepped catiously.

The boy that had helped her gather her things off the floor when her bag split came up to her.

"Do you want to dance," he said, looking especially good-looking in a black pants and white shirt.

Her shyness came flooding back to her.

"I'd love to," she told him.

The boy took her away. He was an excellent dancer. So was she. They floated.

He told her his name was Draco, which Amara remembered from someplace she just coulden't recall.

They danced for ages.

For eternity.

Together.


	6. death eater?

Chapter 6

Amara's face glowed as she walked off the dance floor late that night.

She stumbled when Ron grabbed her arm.

"Amara!" he hissed.

"What?" she asked, annoyed, detaching her arm from his grip.

"Do you-who do you-" he spluttered.

"What?" Amara said again.

"Who do you think you were dancing with?" he asked softly.

"Umm… Draco Malfoy?" she answered, confused.

"Do you know WHO he is?" Ron insisted.

"A boy?" Amara said. "Ron- I have no idea why you are making such a big deal out of this. Draco is perfectly nice-"

"Your Draco is a Death Eater," Ron interrupted her.

Cold ice flooded her veins. A Death Eater. How could he? How could he? She trembled.

"No…" Amara protested weakly. "You're lying."

"I'm not," Ron told her.

Tears gathered at the tips of her beautiful eyes, threatening to spill over. She slipped her shoes off. And she ran, as fast as she could, her bare feet pounding the cold floor.

Ron didn't even try to follow her.

When she got to the common room, she threw herself on one of the cheery red couches and sobbed her heart out.

Just when she was starting to trust people, to love again. How could he?

A/N I AM trying to make my chapters longer, just so people know.


	7. dinner

Chapter 7

Dinner was as uncomfortable and silent, as it always was. Amara was still shaken from the other day when Ron had told her that Draco was a Death Eater. She had not talked to any of her friends since then. She wasn't mad at them, she just had not talked to any of them.

Snape broke the silence.

"Amara?" He questioned silkily.

She had a book in her lap and was reading in between bites.

"Mmm?"

"I heard you… you and Draco… were at the dance together," he said. "And… that you and Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and that despicable Granger-," his lip curled upward with disdain.

"They're my friends," she interrupted, putting her book down on the table.

Snape sniffed. "Very well. But, as your father, I must say that Potter is really not a suitable choice for a friend, and that Weasley scum. And Granger! Don't get me started on that little mudblood."

"As my father?" Amara said incredulously. "As my father? You are NOT my father. Fathers are supposed to be nice. Fathers are supposed to care, or at least pretend to." Words spewed out of Amara, bubbling up like a dirty fountain.

"And I have to inform you that it is NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS who I dance with or which people I hang out with. NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS," she said in her coldest, hardest voice. Tears streamed down her face, but she chose to ignore them. Her heart was cracking but she chose to ignore it.

Snape attempted to say something but Amara kept talking.

"You didn't care for the first sixteen years of my life – why start now?" And suddenly she broke down. She wept and wept, burying her face in her hands.

Snape reached out a hand as if to stroke her hair; as if to comfort his only daughter.

Amara rebuffed it violently, pushing his arm away from her.

"I'm not done," she said. "Why did you have to go? Why did you have to leave? Why? You broke my heart, and Mum's too. And then she died, and you didn't care! What the fuck is wrong with you?" she demanded angrily. "And then you come in here, and-"

"I did care," Snape began quietly.

"Whatever. I'm off." Amara drew herself up from the table and walked away slowly, like a queen, leaving her father sitting at the table dumbstruck.

_Review review review. you guys are what keeps me going. Also, I am going to start writing either a marriage law romance fic or a head boy/head girl romance fic. Review and tell me which one you'd rather see and what pairing you would like to see. More Draco/Hermione, Harry/Hermione Harry/Draco… tell me who YOU would like to read about –what couple. Thanks!_


	8. SURPRISESURPRISE

Chapter 8

Amara let your fury guide her. She ran, as fast as she could to the Slitherin common room. She ran into Draco as he was stepping out into the hallway.

He looked at her in surprise.

"Amara?"

Her voice trembled with anger, and maybe fear as well.

"I just want to say… I just want to say- HOW COULD YOU?" the tears began to flow again.

Draco looked confused.

"You're a Death Eater!" Amara screamed. "A Death Eater!"

People around them started to stare, but she didn't lower her voice.

"My mother," she continued, "was tortured to DEATH by them. And I-I have suffered more than you can imagine at their hands." Her voice quieted, and wavered noticeably. "And I trusted you! I don't know why, but I did."

"Amara," said Draco in a bemused sort of way, "I'm not a Death Eater."

"Oh," she said sheepishly.

* * *

She went to bed with Draco's kisses still on her lips, and she smiled happily. Everything was great, and even her awful dreams had subsided a bit.

* * *

It was at that moment, she knew. She had to tell someone. Harry. She had to get it out of her.

When she crept downstairs, he, Ron, Hermione, were still down there.

"Can I talk to you, Harry," she said quietly.

"Sure," he said, but didn't move.

"Privately."

"Oh! Yeah," he stood up from his studies. Ron and Hermione looked curious.

"Harry," said Amara once they were out of earshot, "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course," he said gently, and a bit apprehensively.

"Snape is my father," she said.

He looked stunned.

"He left us-me and my mother, when I was four. My guess is that he was fleeing from the Death Eaters. That's why I hate him so much. Because," her voice cracked, "once he had left, the Death Eaters came and tortured us. They killed mum." Her eyes, usually sparkling, looked dull and hollow.

Harry looked sad, and hugged her tightly to him.

She draped her neck over his shoulder. "Me and my father just had a fight," she said when she could control herself. "And I wasn't supposed to tell you this, but I think you should know."

Harry nodded encouragingly.

"My mother," she faltered, "My mother was Lily Potter."

_

* * *

(Heehee. Cliffie! Also, I'm going away for a couple of weeks, so this is it for a while, guys. When I get back I will update more, so hang in there.)_


	9. explanations

Chapter 9

"What the hell?" said Harry weakly. "That doesn't make any sense!"

Amara bit her lip, and began to explain. "You are a year older than me, Harry. Your parents were killed when you were three months old, or so you were told. Isn't that right?"

He nodded slightly.

"After your father, who died to save you, was killed, your mother was the only thing that stood between you and Voldemort. Instead of killing her, Voldemort gave her as a present, to his most faithful Death Eater at the time… Snape. When Voldemort tried to kill you, the fact that your father had died to protect you saved you."

Harry looked at her sadly.

"They grew to love each other, despite everything. A month later, Lily Evans found out she was pregnant with me. That was when Snape turned from the Dark side. I was born nine months later."

"What about me?" Harry said indignantly. "She just forgot about me?"

"Of course not," said Amara soothingly. "A memory charm was performed on our mother to make her forget about you. I did not even know about you until she died."

"She Amara took a deep breath, and continued. "I lived an isolated life. I didn't have any friends, we didn't go out, it was only later that I understood why. We were constantly on the run from the Death Eaters. It would be dangerous to let anyone get to know or befriend us."

"Then, when I was four, Snape left us. To save his own selfish hide," she said bitterly. "For eight years, until I was twelve, the Death Eaters came. They… beat us, hurt us… for the fun of it. Then my mother died. She was beaten to death in an attempt to save me.I was then saved by Dumbledore and Snape, who took me took a boarding school for magic until I was fifteen. And then… people around me, people close to me started dying. I was taken to Hogwarts."

"I think that's why he hates me so much," she said. "I am a living reminder of what he left behind."

"How could he do that?" Harry cried. "How could he leave you? And our mother? To die!"

"I don't know," Amara said wearily, "I don't know."

"That means… you're my sister," he said and half-smiled at her.

"Half sister," corrected Amara gently.

He leaned forward to hug her, and their cheeks touch lightly, intermingling their tears.

"Sister," he insisted softly, over her shoulder.

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"Do you like him?" asked Hermione, looking amused. Hermione and Amara were walking down the corridor together alone, to Ancient Runes class.

Amara looked horrified. "Harry? I don't like him!" she cried. "At least not in the way you're talking about."

Hermione laughed. "Okay, okay! I was just wondering because you spend so much time together!"

_I can hardly tell her that, no, I don't like Harry, he's my brother_, thought Amara wryly. She had sworn Harry to secrecy after she had told him that they were related.

I won't even start discussing you and Ron," Amara teased.

Hermione blushed.

They entered the classroom together and sat down.

_I can't keep it a secret forever though_, Amara thought grimly. _It will have to come out one day._

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_(A/N Sorry this was a short chappie. Cookies and ice cream to all who review!)_


	10. bad dream

(IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT LISTEN UP! I will not be updating this story again until I reach 50 reviews. Help me reach 50 and then I will update again. Oh yeah and tell me if I did a good job of keeping Snape in character.)

Chapter 10

_Hermione sat in the couch in the Griffindor Common Room. She chattered happily with Ron, Harry and Hermione sat next to her._

_Suddenly, the warm end of summer wind was replaced by a chill, frigid wind that bit at her skin and clothes._

_Amara shivered, as did her friends. And immediately, her dream changed shape. _

_Now they were immersed in black, in a black room with black walls, where they could barely see each other. All of them clasped hands instinctively. What was in here? A monster? Fluffy? A dragon?_

_But they were facing something much worse. _

_As Voldemort stood before them, their heads exploded with pain. His gleaming eyes struck out Amara, and she writhed on the floor with the pain of a million people screaming out, asking for mercy, screaming while they were killed, while still clutching her friend's hands. They too, were screaming and crying with the pain inside their heads.. _

_Voldemort looked disdainful. "You are but weaklings," he said in his soft, hissing voice. "There is no good and bad in the world, only power…" Then there was a flash of green light at Amara's two sides, and she found herself still gripping her dead friend's hands tightly._

_The pain in her head was gone, but so were her friends. She screamed and wailed with grief.  
_

_Amara looked up into pitiless, unmerciful eyes. Voldemort held out a hand, and without thinking, she took it. It was cold, like death, except Voldemort… was… unforgivably alive._

Amara woke with a start, and immediately started crying.

It was puzzling, the dream seemed so real…

Looking at her hands, she noticed that her hands had the nail marks from Hermione's and Harry's hand grasping hers so tight.

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Amara sat on the floor in the library and leaned comfortably around Draco's legs. He sat in a chair right next to her.

The library was deserted. After all, it was dinnertime. Where would one think hungry students would be? Eating dinner, of course.

"It's quite strange," Draco agreed. Amara had related the dream to him, and he had found it as puzzling as her.

"I had a dream like this one," he said, uncharacteristically quietly. "When I murdered my father."

Amara gasped.

"I'm sorry…" she started.

"He was a Death Eater, one who enjoyed killing. Do not be sorry. He got exactly what he deserved," Draco said with a slight air of sadness. He was, after all, his father.

Amara didn't say anything, just hugged Draco to her chest.

He answered by placing his sweet lips on hers.

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Amara took a deep breath. _I have to do this_, she thought. _It is the right thing to do_. And she walked through the door into her father's rooms. He was labeling some flasks of potion, but looked up when she arrived.

"Amara!" He seemed surprised, and maybe a little glad.

"Father," she said coldly. "I just wanted to tell you-"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted.

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry that your mother… had to die the way she did. Amara, please understand, I would have gladly come and saved you but I was being held off… by Voldemort and his other Death Eaters. I am sorry… that you had to go through that. Alone."

Amara was genuinely touched. "Thank you… I miss her so much, though…" she confided to him, and bit her lip.

"I know. I do too," he looked at her with sadness in his "emotionless" eyes.

_And everybody wondered why Snape was so bitter as a teacher_, Amara thought. _He has much to be bitter for, as do I… _But something nagged at the back of her mind.

"Why did you leave, then?" she asked. "When I was four, you left, didn't even tell us where you were going. I thought you were trying to save yourself."

"No. I knew the Death Eaters were chasing me, and I thought, if I left, and you didn't know where I was going, that they'd leave you alone and go after me. I was… wrong," Snape said, his face contorting, as if the memories alone were painful. And they were.

_I understand now_, Amara thought. "I forgive you," she said slowly. _It's going to be hard to go from hating you to actually having a father_, she thought bemusedly.

Snape said nothing, but the look on his face said all. Awkwardly, he reached over and wrapped his arms around his only daughter, enveloping her with a hug.

"One more thing," Amara protested. "My choice of friends… is my own."

Her father nodded consent. "Fine. Though I do not like them, I will have to be content with that."

"Oh… and umm… uhhh… Father…" the word felt weird against her tongue. "I told Harry. About his mother. I thought he deserved to know."

"Amara! That was supposed to be a secret." He raised his eyebrows to the ceiling. "Your soft heart will be the death of you."

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Divination. Last class of the day. Sighhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Amara closed her eyes, and felt herself drifting off.

"Class is over," said Professor Trelawney in her ethereal way. "Amara? May I see you alone?"

She nodded wearily, and the rest of the class fled.

"Amara, dear," said Trelawney. "I have noticed that you are not doing so well in class… Your predicting vibrations-very weak, very weak." She paused.

And then she began to change. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her face shook. She began to speak, in a voice that was both creepy and fascinating. It sounded as if it were many people talking at the exact same time.

_"Amara, daughter of a Death Eater turned, you will face the danger that lies in the shadows. _

_In the month of May he will come, and you will fight them._

_Gather your weapons, or you will not succeed. Either way comes with a heavy price for the deed._

_The Boy Who Lived must be at your side."_

She gasped, as if for air, and returned to herself. "What was I saying? Oh yes, you must work on them. I would like you to take this stack of papers and review them for the next class."

Amara just gaped at her.

"What, dear? It's just a little extra homework," she said a bit irately. Trelawney handed Amara the papers, and ushered her out of the room.

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Thanks to all who review! Cookies and cream and kisses and hugs to you!


	11. What next?

Important Announcement: I will not be updating until I reach at least 60 reviews, though 70 would be great...

Note: I tried to make this chapter as long as possible, but I am rather lacking in ideas, so if you have any, just PM me, (it is much appreciated!!).

Disclaimer: I do not own the song (Kelly Clarkson does) and I do not own the book (J.K. Rowling does). All I own is Amara.

This chapter is dedicated to Littlewhiskers. Thanks for giving me that little push to update.

* * *

Because of You 

Chapter 11

Standing outside of Divination, Amara felt her chest turn to cold, heavy ice. She was confused, and stunned.

She walked slowly back to the Griffindor common room. Harry was sitting on the red comfy chair, an easy smile on his face, and a pile of homework in front of him. Hermione was sitting next to him.

They were laughing, and talking, and Hermione was blushing. But when they turned their happy faces up to meet Amara's, she didn't even attempt to paste a smile on her features.

Their smiles faded quickly.

I must look forbidding indeed, thought Amara.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry worriedly. He patted her arm.

With a sigh, she heaved herself down on the couch opposite their two chairs, her ponytail thumping her back.

"I was in Divination," she began to explain. Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. "And…" she struggled to elucidate what had just happened, "…Trelawney went… weird. Her voice…"

Harry nodded. "I know. Did she make a prophecy?"

Amara's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "When he was in his third year, she made a prediction as well," she clarified.

"So," said Harry, "what did she say?"

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned in bed that night. What did it mean? 

_Amara, daughter of a Death Eater turned, you will face the danger that lies in the shadows. _

Hmmm. Amara bit her lip. The danger that lies in the shadows was most definitely the death eaters; she was sure. But... it wasn't Voldemort. Voldemort was officially out in the open, so...

_In the month of May he will come, and you will fight them._

_Ok, well that's pretty clear,_ Amara thought.

_Gather your weapons, or you will not succeed. Either way comes with a heavy price for the deed._

_Great. Prices. Damn._

_The Boy Who Lived must be at your side._

She clenched her fists and tried not to let one tear escape from her eyes.

_Why does trouble follow me wherever I go?_ she asked herself once again.

* * *

When she awoke the next morning, she was still tired. She had rings around her eyes, and her nose was running. 

_I'm a wreck_, she thought tiredly.

She didn't have any classes until after lunch, so she thought she might go see Draco. But how to find him?

She replaced her PJs with a knee length brown skirt and a plain black top. She wasn't in the modd for fripperies. She brushed her hair quickly, and once again put it back in a ponytail.

Amara cautiously walked over to the Slitherin dormitories and loitered in front of their door for a while (she wasn't supposed to know where it was but Draco had told her). They gave her dirty looks and sneered when she asked where Draco was.

What more could she have expected?

She gave a defeated sigh and headed back to the dormitory.

An annoyed looking McGonagall was standing in the middle of the hallway. She looked happy to see Amara.

"Are you looking for Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asked Amara quietly.

Amara knitted her eyebrows. "Does everyone know that I am friends with Draco?"

"Perhaps," McGonagall answered solemnly. "He is in the hospital wing. I think you should visit him."

Amara felt her stomach clench unpleasantly.

* * *

Amara sat down next to him. His eyes were shut, but he looked fine. Just as beautiful as usual, his blond hair shining.

She cautiously lifted up the blanket. There were no bandages, nothing.

"He's asleep," Madam Pomfrey. "Please don't wake him."

Amara swallowed painfully. "What happened?" she whispered.

"Well," began Madam Pomfrey.

Then she heard a murmuring noise from Draco. She bent down to hear him better. His eyes fluttered open.

"Draco?" Amara held her breath. She crossed her fingers and bit her lip. _Please let him be alright._

"Who are you?" Draco asked groggily, his eyebrows tilting up with confusion. "Where am I?"

_Oh, no. Oh, no. Please, no_, she thought.

"What happened?" she turned to Madam Pomfrey.

She looked regretfull, even sympathetic. "He had his memory stolen," she informed Amara.

* * *

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